Boinadobo - Valid Crashout

Mother 🕯️

In this piece I created, a single window glows in a sea of sleeping homes. Outside, the world is still, the snow quietly falling. But inside that lit room, someone is awake.

Maybe it’s a mother soothing a fevered brow in the early hours. Maybe she’s preparing breakfast before the city stirs. Maybe she simply hasn’t found the time to rest, because everyone else comes first.

This light is a tribute to all the mothers who shine quietly in the background. Who carry entire worlds without expecting recognition. Whose love burns softly but powerfully, unwavering, even in the coldest winters.

Today, we honor that light. Happy Mother’s Day 💐

tragedy

the applin brothers (before i ate them)

trauma therapy has been swell

i feel so completely directionless

anyone else get embarrassed when their self indulgent daydreams are like too self-indulgent? like oh jeez the telepaths are going to judge me

DUALITY of LOVE and HATE.

The thought of you begins the rapid beating of my anxiety ridden heart.

It thumps hard like a stampede on a battlefield of a war that is the wreckage of my ruined mind,

Torn asunder between two sides.

Love

Some days, I miss the person i wished you were,

and sometimes I still feel a platonic love, not for you, but for who I hoped you could be.

Hate

Most days, I hate you more than I could ever care for you again,

and the thought of a better you is tainted by the unforgivable memories of your deceit and the many times you lied to me.

See, the duality of love and hate are incomprehensible emotions to feel

I conceal these complexities that I've still yet to find the appropriate words to verbalise as the vernacular of hatred is foreign to my romantic heart, made fluent in the language of love.

And despite the spiteful lies of my tongue. I find that however much I may pray to truly despise you to my core.

With all my being, there is no denying that this heart is not a dictatorship meant to be ruled over by one emotion anymore

but an organ crafted in love and dipped in the deepest fountain of your most vulnerable tears,

That reminds me that you were once human. Before you became the origin of evil in my fears You were once mine, in some way or form, although not perfect. I remember who you were and I empathise

I truly despise my enraged heart, filled to the brim with furiosity that still somehow harbours the capacity to care for the devil that created it.

This coincide between feelings is a testament to say that the way in which one views the trauma of their assault is not a one size fits all. But rather, a puzzle of emotions that may not always come together in a way you see fit.

i'm on a lot of nyquil right now

- Clementine Von Radics

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